


The Goddess returned

by Pandigital



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Dreams, F/F, F/M, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religious Conflict, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandigital/pseuds/Pandigital
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Breach had torn the sky asunder. This was much worse. This was a god seeking revenge. Sera reached for Lavellan and held her hand tightly. This wasn't going to be the end of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My heart is breaking

**Author's Note:**

> Translations thanks to Project Elvhen. Go thank them! 
> 
> Translation:   
> Ar avy unisala na. (I used to need you)  
> Ame Amin: "I am The One"  
> rahngirem: slave   
> Mar solas ena mar din: your pride will be your death   
> Lavellan: they who travel to a hopeful place   
> Isalan dera na aron tuelan (I lust to touch you like a creator / essentially, I will touch you like a god/goddess)  
> Isalan hima na (I lust to become you)  
> Mar rodhe ir’on. || You taste delicious

My heart is breaking

This was a new place. She had dreams, she often did. But mages courted demons when they slept and since she had never been a mage she had never had to fear the demons trying to trick her. They had always been too busy with the mages in her clan to bother her. She had asked the older elves and even Solas if they were afraid of the demons that could posses their bodies if they were tricked while they dreamed. Abelas had dreams too. But demons left him alone since he had proven too often to want nothing from them.

She could feel that she was in a sleep gown, but the sleeves were gone. Bare shoulders and low cut. Her chest was exposed. She felt off. Too warm and too cold at the same time. Dread and something else was pooling in her stomach. She felt like her limbs were too heavy.

She had never been in The Fade while dreaming. It was...nice. She was on a very soft bed, golden silk and white cotton. She could smell the ocean and feel the cool breeze on her skin. She was being held by someone warm, their body firm but pleasant. She had missed being cuddled. Dorian was too pointy, too human, too cold.

Bull was like a fire, the few times all three of them had shared a tent. Sera was just right though, soft but firm and warm. This person wasn’t curvy like Sera though. They were blockier but not like Dorian or Krem or Cullen. She blinked the haze away from her eyes and turned her head to looked over her shoulder. Golden-green orbs watched her. She pushed herself into a sitting position.

Her mind was muggy and fogged, like it was floating away from her body while still being attached to her neck. She squinted her eyes at him as he moved toward, one hand gripping her shoulder and the other pushing at her knees, “Abelas?”

“Mar solas ena mar din.” he said as he pushed her down into the bed. She felt a jolt of panic go through her. She tried to sit up but he pinned her wrist, keeping his lower body on top of hers. She tried to buck him off and it only made him smirk down at her before he licked a line from the middle of her chest to the hollow of her throat. She gasped as he began to suck and kiss at her collar, her throat, the sport behind her ears. She twisted her head away from him but he followed.

“What are you doing?” she shouted, her limbs not moving how she wanted them to. Abelas let go of her neck, his lips pressing a soft kiss to a harsh bite he had left. He lifted his body up only enough to look down at her. She tried to move and it worked. Until he grabbed her and slammed her down onto her stomach. She let out a whoosh of air as she hit the bed.

The Fade was changing before her eyes. The bed had turned dark—black and red with rougher silk that caught the skin—and the ocean smell had become a thick red smoke that hung low and heavy in the air. She clawed at the sheets as he Abelas whispered into her ear, “Ar avy unisala na.”

“What are you doing? Abelas! Let go. Stop it!” she cried out as she felt him slip a hand under her gown and up to her breast. He gave one of them a squeeze as the other hand kept her wrist captive. He kissed the back of her neck before nibbling on the ends of her ears.

She gave a whimper as heat pooled into her lower stomach. He let his hand trail down her chest, his nails running down the bone, leaving lighting in their wake. He gave her ear a slow lick from lobe to tip before blowing cool air onto it and then whispering with heated desire into her ear, “Ame Amin.”

She kicked up and out, but he moved at the last moment and flipped them. He was on his back, holding both of her wrist as she straddled him; he bucked up into her and she felt a thick pressure push against her. Fear pooled with the heat and she tried to jerk her arms and body away from him. Since he back was to him she turned her head to growl, “I’ll kill you! Let go! STOP!” He let go of her wrist and she fell onto her side.

He held her down, hiking up her gown and letting his hand rest against her most private area. Her heart stopped as he leaned close enough to brush his lips against hers. He smiled at her so beautifully before speaking, “Isalan dera na aron tuelan.” He kissed her with a dark intent that none of the boys she had ever kissed had displayed and she jerked her head away and he moved her gown to expose her chest, his mouth finding a nipple and sucking like a babe before giving it a harsh bite that drew blood. She felt her body freeze as his fingers tickled her too close to her warmth. A place no one had ever touched. The fear only lasted a moment before she twisted with everything she had.

He was too heavy and her limbs too slow. She felt tears well in her eyes and she hiccuped out a soft but drawn out, “N-noo-!”

He let the back of his knuckles brush her tears away before giving her a deep kiss. He pulled away and spoke against her lips, smiling, “Mar rodhe ir’on. Just say yes. Tell me what I want to hear, tell me you’ll be mine. Isalan hima na.”

The illusion fell away. The slowness of her limbs was gone as her brain clicked into place. She pushed hard enough to send her attackers flying into the ground. She was no longer exposed, but in her armor with her weapons. The bedroom was gone, the ocean smell and even the red smoke; The Fade glowed green around them as she hissed, “Demon. Be gone. I will not suffer in my dreams because of you!”

The demon chuckled as skin of Abelas fell away. He folded his arms in front of him, his tail swaying behind him as he smirked at her, “You sleep next to a powerful mage. His mind wanders to you often. He love you so much. It was easy to look into his mind and see what he wanted from you. What you have always been curious about.”

She felt her cheeks flush. She had been curious. She had seen so many after a night of lovemaking. Marks as black a s night on their necks, worn with pride, limping with a smile. She had always wondered but had never dared to try even though she could have, “I don’t care. He doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t love me. He loves—”

The demon laughed loudly at her, cutting her off. He gave a sad but mocking shake of his head before placing his hands on his hips, “Foolish child, I have seen his mind. She is not the one who torments him at night. The one who keeps him awake and aching. But he will not move to you. You who are a child to humans and an adult by your peoples.”

“I am leaving. I can wake up and then I won’t have to listen to you anymore.” She said as she drew her dagger. Dying in dreams made you wake up. Mages became Tranquil but she was no mage and thus held no fear. The demon gave a low hiss.

“No!” the demon roared at it lunged for her. She jumped out of the way and brought her dagger up as the demon brought its tail around to try and smack her. The dagger bit into flesh and the demon pulled away with a growl of pain. She stood up as the demon stalked closer, claws flexing. They began to circle each other. She gripped her dagger tightly in her hand as the demon charged.

She moved backward, blocking and dodging. She shifted her weight as a claw shot out to grab at her hip. She spun away and then did a somersault as the demon turned, using it’s tail as a weapon. She dropped to her knees and swung a leg out to trip the demon. He jumped over the leg sweep and swept down at her. She rolled away. She landed on her feet and sprung into a standing position.

They began to circle each other again. The demon licked its lips, and she caught her breath. She let her body relax and the demon took it as a sign of weakness. She waited until he was close enough and then dropped her weight, bending backwards as he reached for where she had been. She bent her knees at the last moment, placing her other hand on the bottom of the hilt of her dagger. She drove the dagger deep into the demon's heart. The demon gave a low gurgle of pain, claws twitching in pain as he backed away and stared down at the wound.

Lavellan lifted her leg to push him all the way over, her face stormy in rage, “I am in charge of my mind and body. Not you.”

He laughed as he bled out, the blackness reaching for her, “F-fool that you are. He is rahngirem. He has no free will.” Before she could say anything The Fade left in a rush. She woke up with a gasp and almost fell out of the tree that they had slept in. She would have fallen if the real Abelas hadn’t caught her and held her steady as he heart beat wildly in her chest.

“Are you well?” he asked. She wiped the sweat from her eyes and looked at him. He was looking at her with the same eyes that had been in her dream. She looked away and took a deep breath. The cold morning fog clinging to her damp skin and neck. She rubbed her eyes with stiff fingers.

She let her arms rest on her knees as her feet swung from the tree branch. If she had fallen she might have broken her neck of broken something. Abelas had saved her. She wiped at her eyes and took a deep drink of water from the skin Abelas held out for her. She didn’t look at him as she spoke, getting to her feet to begin the climb down, “Bad dream. Come on, let’s get ready and then move. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

They ate semi-stale bread and jerky. They found a small stream to wash their faces and let the other alone to relieve themselves of the night waste. They walked in the dense fog, keeping the road to their right. Every noise made them pause, weapons almost drawn. They held their breath, waiting, and did not relax even when no enemy came for them. She would not meet his eyes, her face pale with fear and an uneasy nights rest. Abelas spoke to her when the sun painted the sky a dark blue as it rose, “I asked about the cult while you slept.”

“You sleep?” she asked with genuine surprise. She finally looked at him and he could see how badly her dreams had affected her. She was not trained to fight as she slept. She caught his gaze directly and she jerked her head down. Her brunette hair casting a curtain between them. The fog clung to their ankles as they walked.

He looked behind them at the road, watching as they climb onto the packed earth, “No. I meditate. I have slept too many years.”

“Oh.” she said as they let their feet kick up dust, “What did you find out?”

“This cult is looking for Clan Sabrae.” he told her.

She stopped to look at him, her face pulled tight in confusion, “The Clan that housed the Hero of Ferelden?”

“You know them?” he asked as they looked at each other. She gave a slow nod of her head and then shook it. She began to walk again and he walked alongside her.

“Not really.” she said in preparation for a longer explanation, “I was too young to remember meeting them. But they don’t stay here on the larger land mass anymore. They never leave the Free Marches. Too many bad memories here.”

“So the cult is leaving the larger land mass then?” Abelas questioned with a raised eyebrow.

She gave a shrug, “Or Clan Sabrae is coming back. But I doubt it. We’ll have to see.”

“I see.”

“If we can find an outpost of the Inquisition then we can get some horses, and the journey will go faster.” she said as the sun cast dim light onto them, warming them. But winter suns held little warmth. They kept an even pace all morning, ducking into the trees as the afternoon creeped towards them. They ate on the road, and drank in small sips to make the water last. By late afternoon they rested their aching legs and feet. Lavellan rubbed her heels as she sat on a tangle of exposed tree roots.

“What did you dream about?” Abelas asked as he rubbed his calves. He was sitting crossed legged on her left side. Her head shot up from where it was bent and gave him a shocked look before looking away, a flush high on her cheeks.

“What?” she asked as though she hadn’t heard him.

Abelas was not fooled by his young master. He rolled his eyes at her attempt at trying to hide things from him. He cracked his lower spine with a small shift in his hips. He stood and stretched out his body, hands holding each other as they pulled upwards, his breast bone giving a low crack as he did so, “You were dreaming. A nightmare. You will not look me in the eye and I find it...unpleasant. I have heard that speaking of nightmares often helps.”

“Not this time.” she said as she pulled on her toes, letting them crack and easing the pain in her feet before rotating her ankles. Small pops that seemed so loud in the old forest.

“Was it about me?” he asked.

She did not even look at him but away, “Yes.”

He could guess what had happened. Desire demons often preyed on the young. He had been tempted once. He chose his words with caution, “Demons know nothing of passion, Lavellan.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” she said as she stood up and walked back to the road.

He followed after and then kept pace, “Very well. Let us talks of names.”

“Why?” she scoffed.

He would draw her mind away from bad memories. Bad dreams. He looked down at her as he spoke, “Because, if I am to change mine, I want one that will suit me. Lavellan is your clan name. Did you know that it means “they who travel to a hopeful place” in the old tongue?”

“No.” she said and looked at him. No fear or shame. Good.

He nodded his head, “It does. So, if I am to take a last name, I would like yours. But I will need a new name. Though I admit I have grown accustom to it.”

“Then keep it. If you like it is the only thing that matters.”

“Good. One should never be ashamed of the things they enjoy, unless it harms others.”

She flushed and he felt a small spark of pride at being the one who put it there.


	2. E is(not) for eternity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are better left to the imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY HOT SAUCE CHRISTMAS CAKE WITH SPICY FLAKES!!! I LIVE ONCE MORE!!!! And this chapter was a fucking pain in the ass to write. Oh yeah, that month long wait for chapter two was because chapter two was like, "One for the nope train to fuck this village please." So I'm sorry about the delay, please enjoy.

It was easy enough to find her, new and bright as she was in The Fade. The mark connecting them. It had been her idea after all, to wait and plan. She had seen the end and had planned accordingly. When the door to his room slammed open he wasn’t surprised to see a very angry Seeker and her dwarf. The later of whom shut his door so that no wandering eyes or ears could hear the argument that was about to transpire. Solas stood as Cassandra fisted both of her hands into his tunic and shook him with all her might.

He barely moved with the force of her shaking. Her teeth were bared, eyes raging like an approaching storm, as she snapped at him,  “Dorian, Cole, and the Bull are gone. You know something! I want answers and I want them now!”

Varric sat down on the top of the trunk near the bed, one hand braced on his knee, “Chuckles, you may wanna spill the beans on this one.”

He felt his lips curl into a curl smile. Cassandra let him go like she had been burned. It was so close to being done and he didn’t want to wait anymore. He felt himself chuckle, let his power slip out slightly to press into the fragile and mortal flesh before him, “So you can interfere with everything that Mythal has worked for?”

“She is dead.” Cassandra said softly, backing away. Varric had jumped from the trunk and had taken his place next to Cassandra.

Solas scoffed, “Hardly.”

Cassandra shook her head, trying to deny the proof he was giving her, her hands moving in the air as she spoke, “Solas, what are you talking about? Lavellan has the memory of every life she lived and died in. It’s not like she would lie to us.”

“Unless the memories are false.” Varric said.

Solas let out a laugh, his chest rising and falling like a stuttering heartbeat, his eyes bleeding into the golden color of a god. The white fading to black, his teeth sharpening, a look a triumph on his face, “Look at this, it seems the shem does have a brain.”

“You’re not Solas.” Cassandra said as she grabbed her dagger on her belt.

“No. I am not. Solas was a tool to find the last part of her. Now, she is almost ready. Now, in a few short weeks, she will find her tomb, and she will finally remember who she was suppose to be.”

“So everything was a lie.” Cassandra said softly. The room seemed to freeze. Solas moved first. He grabbed Cassandra by her shoulder and threw her to the door, but she held on tightly. She dug her dagger down into his shoulder with all her might. Solas dropped her hard onto the floor and used his teeth to pull the dagger out, spitting it the left.

Cassandra tackled him and began to punch and claw. Blood poured from his nose and his eye began to swell shut. She stopped, her legs pinning his arms to the ground. She watched at the blood faded like morning dew and the bruises faded like snow over a fire. Solas smirked up at her. She raised her arm again, feeling her Seeker abilities rise and then Varric caught her wrist.

“Seeker, don’t kill him! We need him to find the others.”

She bowed her head and slapped him in the face before rising, her hands clenched at her sides, glaring down at him, Solas, the man who Lavellan trusted to help them all, their greatest traitor, “Tell me why you would let her go like a lamb to starving wolves!”

Solas chuckled as he rose to his feet, “Like a lamb to wolves, how fitting, Seeker. You wish to know, truly? Then allow me to enlighten you. From the moment that you are born, your soul is tethered to the realm it was born in. Spirits are content in The Fade, for that is the only place that they have ever known, and mortal beings are content to stay in the mortal plain. But mages, be they elves, Qunari, even Dwarves once, are not like the mortal men and the spirits of The Fade. Mages have a small spark of other in them.”

He had begun to pace the room and then turned to glare at Cassandra, “Some part of them that had traveled to The Fade and decided to be mortal instead. Dwarves are born from the veins of the earth, inside a womb of firm and death, and their souls are like that as well. Elves are born from starlight, and the Qunari are their bastard creations. Born from ill will and malice. Gods though, oh, Gods. Their souls are enormous, too large to put into words, and yet the simplest word seems to describe them. Big.

“And big things have more blood. And blood, oh my dear Seeker, blood is more powerful than you can even comprehend.” He smiled so wickedly at her that he looked more demon than elf.

“You knew that this would happen.” Varric said, his face finally showing his shock, no longer the calm and collected storyteller. Then he shook his head, “No. Mythal did, she had planned this out from the moment she let herself be killed. Right, Chuckles? Or should I call you Wolf now?”

“Call me what you please, but it doesn’t change anything.”

The Seeker went to the door and wrenched it open, “Guards!” Cassandra yelled.

“I don’t think that those cells will hold him, Cassandra.”

Solas smiled at them and held out his hands, “By all means, chain me up. She’ll let me out when she comes back.”

“When?” Cassandra snapped as the guards came running into the room.

“Yes, when.” Solas said with a look of wonder on his face. 


	3. You've got time!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why do you want to go home?

The fog had been thick for hours now. Thick enough that the trees rose like stones out of it, their roots reaching for their feet as they tried to make their way away from Skyhold and to the Dwarven kingdoms. They had tried the road, but it had ended in a jagged cliff that had almost sent Lavellan over the edge and to her death. The trees clung together like frightened children, and it was safer to follow them. The fog had come in the early hours of the morning, and it had stayed twice as long. Abelas and Lavellan had slowly walked closer and closer together the longer the fog stayed. Something evil was in the fog, watching them with unseen eyes.

They did not stop, in fear of whatever lie in wait for them. Her dreams had gotten worse and now her body protested every step. Her very bones sang out to rest but she did not listen. Her tired feet moved and moved and moved and even when they began to ache, she told them to move. The evil thing was behind them, just out of reach and hidden by the fog. Waiting for them to try and stop. She knew that a small town was between Skyhold and the Dwarven cities, she had passed through it many times on her other quest.

From their last stop the night before, they should have been in the town already. Something wasn’t right. She held her daggers close and in tight fists. Abelas ran his nails over the pads of his fingers, the magic within him humming close to the surface. The fog seemed to became even thicker and darker. A cold had started to set into it as well. A tree seemed to appear before her and she had to jump to the side and into Abelas to avoid it.

He caught her and held for a moment, still moving. She regained her footing and they sped up. The evil thing followed. Suddenly, a large door was there before them. Golden and locked away by the forest growing over and around it. Lavellan hated it upon sight for there, etched into the gold, was Mythal, in all her horrible glory. Before she could speak, she was hit on the back of the head and everything was dark.

And cold.

And she knew she was alone.

She woke up, of all places, in her bed back in Skyhold. They must have found them after she had left. Dorian wouldn’t stand for it. Or any of her advisors for that matter. She looked around the room, because while it was the same, something was very different. The kind of different that made her very, very nervous. On her desk there was not a single sheet of paper.

In the corner of the room, a golden headdress sat atop a mannequin, the style reminding her of the headdress Flemeth had worn. On the mannequin was a dress covered in layer after layer of white cloth inlaid with white gold and simple single chain belt made of gold with the foci that had given her the mark at the end of it. She rubbed her head and threw her legs over the edge. As her feet touched the ground, suddenly did servants from every corner of the room bleed from the walls to help. They bathed her, dressed her and even fed her. She fought them each step of the way. As she ran down the stairs to get away from them, she burst into the throne room and every eye turned to her.

She felt bile rise into her throat at what she saw. All of her human friends, pinned and flayed upon the walls, their blood still fresh and their hearts still beating, begging for her to let them go. All the elves were dressed in gold and silver and gems and jewels. And Solas was there, waiting for her near her throne that she had passed judgement onto others with. He swept his hands and bowed. She turned and then saw Bull, being used as a toy for a group of young elves no older than her. She opened her mouth to scream and knew no more.

She had to know what had happened. So she made a plan and when she awoke once more in her bed that wasn’t her bed, she told the room to bring her advisor to her and that Solas was not allowed to be in her rooms until she said so. On the following day she called her advisors together and asked them to tell her how they had liked her rule during the past year. They were silent for a moment, pondering why she should ask such a question, then the most venerable among them said, “My liege, since you succeeded to the throne you have ruled justly and effectively, but in the year just past you have displayed greater statesmanship and discretion in all affairs of government than ever before. Not until this year have you hearkened so intently to the wishes of the people, and never to my knowledge have the Elven Lands flourished as well as they do now; appropriately have your subjects named you, Mythal the Merciful.” Bending into a deep bow he subjoined, “May it please your majesty to continue to govern as you have this past twelvemonth.”

Lavellan didn’t know what to make of this news. But she did know that she wasn’t where she was suppose to be. Where was Abelas? Was he even in this odd world that she had woken up in or was he somewhere else? She only thanked her new advisors and sent them on their way. She needed to find a way out of here and fast. But she wasn’t leaving without Abelas.

*******************

Dorian was know to complain while on the road. From the cold to the people to everything he could think of. And Dorian could think of many things at once. Bull and Cole had both gotten used it since meeting him. Lavellan would often trade barbs with him on the road. But that complaining. This was outright fury smashed down into shimmering anger.

Bull knew that if Lavellan didn’t get an earful the entire trip back to Skyhold, the next group of enemies stupid enough to cross them would be nothing but skid marks on the dirt road. A road that Dorian complained about for three hours straight. Not for him but for Lavellan. She never wore shoes and the road was littered with sharp rocks and broken swords crusted over with metallic rust. Bull and Cole had seen her walk over worse. Elf feet were like sturdy leather shoes from Antiva. Unless it was very sharp and coming in fast, their feet didn’t feel a thing. How Dorian still had enough breath to complain was what Bull was truly wondering about the third day into their break neck speed quest for the Boss.

“Cole, what was she thinking?” Dorian said as he used his staff to send pices of rock and broken metal into the trees, his eyes flashing with anger, “Why would she leave on this suicide mission without us? US? Her closest and dearest friends?”

Cole only ducked his head, his wide hat covering him and his face, which was twisted into hurt and confusion, “Her mind and her heart are arguing with each other. They don’t really know who settle their differences. Her mind is telling her that her plan will work and only she would have to die. A good plan with little reward but large gain. Her heart is telling that her friends deserve to know, even if she won’t let us help her.”

“Well, when we catch up to her I am going to make sure she knows how much of my ire she has been spared. With the Maker as my witness.”

Bull was good at being the voice of reason when Dorian was worked up. He was very passionate about many things. Friends, as Bull came to find, where always treated as though they didn’t know how to fight. Lavellan had suplexed Krem. Bull was never worried about her, until he had to be, like right now. But right now, he needed Dorian to shimmer down a little, “Dorian, she might not even want to hear you; she might just take one look at us and bolt. If she is dead set on killing the cult and its leader all on her own.”

“She hopes that killing them will save everyone. Because if they managed to wake him up then her fight won’t be over yet.” Cole said as way of explanation. Bull moved over a fallen while Cole appeared on the other side of it.

“Wake who, Cole?” Dorian said with a heavy sigh as he jumped over the fallen tree.

Cole once more nodded his head, “She doesn’t really know. It’s because you don’t really remember when you die. Only the pain of it and the person who caused it.”

Dorian looked at Cole with fear in his eyes, “Who killed her?”

“Not the her we know now. The old her.”

“Mythal?” Bull asked.

“Yes. She knows that he didn’t die. But he is locked up. The cult thinks it's helping her but it's really helping him because he lied to them. Mythal is already reborn and powerful. She is our friend. And if they have her then they might have all that they need to free him and then it won’t matter that she went off alone because he’ll do worse than kill her.”

“Well fuck.”

“Indeed.” Dorian said with a glaring frown.

*******************

She stayed in her room all day and waited until night. Hopefully these elves slept, or at least did what Abelas did in substitution for sleep. As crept out of the room she was glad to see no guards and no one moving along the hallways. This was still Skyhold. An odd version of it, but it was still her kingdom. Her home. The answers had to be in the library, since her room held no answers for her. She moved along the wall, ducking into the deep shadows cast by the veilfire brazzers.

None of her friends hung from the walls. In fact, nothing hung from them. Had she dreamt it? There wasn’t blood stains, or even the old smell of blood. Bull had been chained to the wall. As she ran her hands along the cool stone, she felt nor saw anything like that. Magic? Dream?

Nightmare? Her head was heavy with this world and she didn’t want to stay heer much longer.

“Hang on, Abelas. I’m coming for you.” she whispered into the dark as she made her way to the library door. The door to the library was much larger than in her Skyhold. And also covered in glowing white runes. She pushed on the door and it opened without a sound. Inside it was so dark that her elvhen eyes could see into it. She felt a soft breeze and then a hand on her shoulder she spun around with a wordless cry, ready to strike and Solas caught her wrist.

He raised an eyebrow at her. He lowered her wrist and then crossed his arms, “What are you doing? You should be asleep.”

She opened and closed her mouth. Then she pointed to the open doorway, “I...I’m looking for a book.”

“What kind?”

She narrowed her eyes at his smirking smile. This wasn’t a Solas she liked very much. She took a step back from him, “Why do you need to know?”

“So I can help you.”

“I need to see.”

Solas only smirked even wider, leaned down and then snapped his fingers. The library was flooded with soft light that cast her shadow at Solas. She smiled at him and took another step backwards to the library. He followed her and then moved past her. He sat down in the chair of the rotunda and crossed his legs. She entered slowly. It was much bigger than the one she had.

She almost cracked her neck looking up to see how high to went. Much bigger. The rotunda was much different though. For one, it had no paintings on its walls. For another nine gold pedestals decorated the room. On their solid gold pedestals the nine lamps threw their light up the ceiling, causing the stone tracery and heavy basses to flicker indecisively. Lamplight spun in stripes off the gilt spines of the books stacked on the octogonal table. On the lectern, another book lay spread eagled.

“Do you really want to go home?” Solas asked.

She flinched, “How did you know?”

“The humans made you weep. You have never wept for anyone. Not even your favorite.”

“My favorite?”

Solas only nodded his head, “You killed him in the heat of the moment. You said he was too weak. He loved you too much.”

Lavellan shivered and asked, “Who?”

Solas smirked, “Abelas.”

 

 


	4. F is(not) for forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan is still a kid. She didn't ask for all this power.

Solas was smirking at her, and she was still frozen in place. She shook herself from her stupor and walked up to him and glared down her nose at him. Solas didn’t even look bothered by her glare. She folded her arms over her chest.

“Where am I?” she asked. Solas only gave her a chuckle.

“The proper question, my dear,” he answered her as he stood, causing her to move back. He was so tall. When had he become tall? She didn’t remember him ever being so tall. He gripped her upper arms so quickly she didn’t even see him move, “is _when_ are you?”

She tried to pull away but he held on tightly, “I refuse to believe that this a world that will come to pass. I _won’t_ let it.”

Solas smirked at her, a twisted little smirk that made her heart freeze in her chest. He jerked her up off her feet, holding her level with his eyes. Eyes that glowed with madness. She had seen these eyes once before. Redcliffe had been covered in red lyrium and he had been different. A voice with an echo that shouldn’t have been there. A madness in his eyes.

A subtle twitch in his fingers at the blood shed. He hissed at her, with such malice it sent the hair on her head to stand up, “ _Who do you think caused this to happen?_ ”

She shook her head slowly, afraid to truly look away from the wolf that was so close to her throat, “I wouldn’t do this. Why would I **destroy** the world I worked so hard to **save**?”

“Because,” Solas said with a cruel curl of his lips, “you saw the world for what it was. You finally grew up. And the world was better off being crushed beneath your heel. You and the Allfather. _OR_ what’s left of him anyway.”

“What?”

“We can eat souls, and you ate him alive. Cole tried to stop you. **You ate him too**.”

She knew it would hurt but she didn’t care. She jerked her arms away, his nails leaving marks that weeped blood and she punched him with everything she had. His head turned and he fell to the floor with a mad laugh. She was standing over him and then her wrist stung. She gave a low hiss and gripped it. Looking down she saw it. The dagger that she had been given.

“Perceiving the steel lacing the King's eyes,” Solas said as he heaved himself back onto his feet, “the Wolf Lord called to his followers and bade them carry him from the ford, for he knew that before sunset all his power would fade and he would thereafter be but a shadow of his former self, a ragged, flapping, almost mindless thing.”

“ _You are a mindless thing!_ I need to go home and stop this,” she said as she used her arms encompass the whole room, “from happening!”

Solas looked her for a long time. He sat down once more and rubbed his cheek where a bruise was forming. She had taken a few steps away from him. He closed his eyes as he rubbed his cheek and then he stopped. He let his hand fall away to rest on the armrest of the plush chair he was sitting in. He sighed heavily as he slumped down. He finally looked at her.

“So you would rather die than live a life of splendor? This world is yours.” He said, and he stood slowly, “You can’t die. Age. Your friends are safe here in your castle. Which you sent into the sky. You care for _nothing_ and nothing bothers you.”

“ _ **That isn’t living! That’s not dying!**_ ”

“You truly wish to go home?” Solas asked her. She nodded her head. He rolled his eyes and went over to book on the pedestal. He opened it and flipped through a few pages before finding what he was looking for. He tapped the page twice.

“That will take me home?” she asked as moved to look at the book.

“You doubt me?”

“You have lied to me before.”

Solas gave a small half-smirk, half-smile, “True enough. Well then, I suppose you’ll have to find the spell yourself.”

“I can’t read _elvish_! The whole of our history was lost to us and what little we do have doesn’t cover the old words and writings! Because of **YOU**!” she snapped.

“Well then,” Solas said as he moved away, folding his arms behind his back as he walked away with a flirty swing of his hips,” I guess you should have paid attention when Dorian cast the spell to get you home the first time.”

She grabbed her hair and pulled as she stomped her feet and held in a scream. She wasn’t a mage. She had never trained as a mage. Her new status as a mage and a goddess did not mean she had all this power. She glared down at the book and then slammed it shut before tucking it under her arm and storming out of the library. Solas had lied before. Skyhold was not in the sky.

It couldn’t be. She walked down the stairs to the courtyard and made her way to the large gates. They were shut tight. A thick fog had covered the bridge. She pushed the book under the gate and slipped out from one of the holes in the gate. Her foot was stuck for a moment as her toes caught the edge. She jerked them away and snatched up the book.

As she took ten steps into the fog the wind that blew through her was so very cold and the air was very, very thin. She almost fell down. Down to the ground below, glowing red as blood and glittering like a diamond. She was hauled back onto the bridge and was turned to see grey eyes glaring at her. Solas had saved her. She felt something in her chest curl into her and tears crawled up and out of her eyes. Solas pulled her into a hug and let her tears soak him in her sorrow.

She hadn’t wanted any of this. She hadn’t wanted to be a goddess reborn. She hadn’t wanted to be at the Conclave but she loved her family more than anything and snuck away to save them. She hadn’t wanted to be anything. She had just wanted to have a normal life with normal problems. Solas rubbed her back and soothed her hair down. He was humming as he rocked her in place.

He carried her back to her room and put her under the covers. She clutched the book to her chest. Every ridge and bump dug into her chest. Solas sat on the edge of the bed and kept humming. He pulled the book out from her grip and flipped through it. She moved a pillow into his lap and buried her head into the soft fabric. He found the spell and tilted the book to let her see. She gave a low sniff and looked at it. A painting with no words. Like the paintings Solas did in the library. Her Solas in her world. Not this one. They both looked like Abelas. One was in white and the other was in black. The one in white was outlined in silver and the one in black was outlined in gold. She didn’t know what she was looking for. Solas kept petting her hair. She traced the faces with her finger.

“Do you know what you’re looking for?” Solas asked her as he tucked hair behind her ear. She looked at him from the corner of her eye.

“No.” She said.

Solas gave a low hmmm, “Look at the paintings. Look at the man. He is the same man but he is also very different. Because the world is always the same when we first start out, but our choices change everything. In your world, I changed everything and instead of looking for you, my dearest friend, I let you wander; and in doing so I let you grow into someone else. This you, this you is not the you that you are now, and that is fine. But you can’t stay here.”

“I don’t want to stay here. I want to go home.”

“Then look at the painting. Tell me the differences.”

She looked hard at the painting on the pages before her. So many colors and each of her friends painted within their own little circle, twice, one on each side. Then she saw it. “Here,” she said, indicating, “I see an illumination depicting a man with a smiling face and another with a weeping face. Between them lies a single broken dragon's egg, which they are both regarding. How can two people look at the same object and react so variously? What can it mean?”

Solas didn’t answer her as she looked at the paintings. She couldn’t help but think, _Had I been, in truth, been the sovereign of this realm, he would have snared me easily with this sad petition. There is nothing here I hold dear._


End file.
